


bullet bullet bullet

by nappeuns



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Olympics, Alternate Universe - Police, Attempted Murder, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder Mystery, this sounds scary but trust me it's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21818227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nappeuns/pseuds/nappeuns
Summary: When Huang Renjun, Olympic pistol shooter, travels to Seoul for the Olympics, the last thing he expects to be told is that he's under suspicion of a murder. The handsome agent and investigator tasked with watching him don't make it any easier, either.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 280
Collections: ’00 FIC FEST: ROUND ONE





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**Author's Note:**

> written for 00FF Prompt #00219: Olympic pistol shooter, Huang Renjun, gets involved in a murder case which leaves him under the supervision of field agent Lee Jeno and investigator Na Jaemin.
> 
> this was honestly THE most fun i have had writing a fic in... so long... this prompt was SO cool and interesting and gave me so much to work with! i loved plotting out all of the little details in this. a huge thanks to the prompter for such an incredible idea!!! i'm so lucky to have written it and i hope i did it justice!
> 
> just a small note, all of the members in this fic are aged up to make their professions a bit more believable, with the 00liners being twenty three in this fic! it doesn't really change anything, it's just for logic's sake hehe. 
> 
> i wonder if you can guess who the murderer really is~ let's see if you can figure it out!
> 
> title from, quite fittingly, shoot me by day6!

Seoul was beautiful. Renjun had always thought so. He’d made several trips here over the years, so the city wasn’t unfamiliar; growing up in Jilin, near Yanbian, meant Renjun had spent a good portion of his life speaking Korean, so travelling to the peninsula was never difficult when money allowed it. Despite his familiarity with the city, though, travelling to Seoul for the Olympics seemed to give the city an entirely new energy.

Part of it probably had to do with being put up in a fancy hotel-- something Renjun had never really splurged on during his previous visits-- but part of it definitely had to do with having friends here this time around. It was his first Olympics, yes, but it wasn’t his first major competition, having competed at the World Shooting Championships two years back. He’d made a few friends there, and the Olympics was the only event where they were all in the same place again. Renjun had already gone for dinner with the South Korean representative, a particularly excitable Lee Donghyuck who was all too eager to give Renjun a tour of Seoul, despite having been there multiple times before. Mark Lee from team Canada had come along as well-- not a pistol shooter like Donghyuck and Renjun, as he competed in the rifle prone event, but a friend nonetheless. Renjun had even run into Xuxi, who was ecstatic to have qualified for the Olympics this year, representing Hong Kong for the first time in a shooting event. He’d given Renjun a hug that could have crushed him, rambling in excited Mandarin, and despite the almost suffocating feeling of being hugged by someone so much bigger than him, Renjun had laughed.

For now, though, Renjun wasn’t luxuriating in the amenities of the luxury hotel, or out on the streets of Seoul with his friends. Right now, Renjun was sitting in his room, looking out at the busy streets through the window, a hot pack resting on his wrist. It had been sore recently-- his manager, Kun, had blamed it on the change in atmospheric pressure or something of the sort, and had set him on a strict regimen of heating and icing the joint, in order to make sure he was in top form for the event in two days. Renjun was in the running for the gold this year, having placed second at the previous competition late last year, and he wanted to make sure he brought the medal back to Beijing, so it wasn’t hard for him to follow his manager’s advice. Renjun could almost hear Kun’s voice in his head-- _fifteen minutes on, fifteen minutes off, alternate in between. You’ll remember, right?_

As if on cue, then, there was a knock at the door, three sharp raps that Renjun knew to be his manager. Before he could move, though, the door was swinging open, and Kun was striding inside, startling Renjun. Normally Kun would wait for Renjun to open the door, despite having his own key-- but when he heard his manager’s rapid-fire Mandarin, saying to Renjun, “Tell them you had nothing to do with this, that you know nothing,” Renjun froze.

In the doorway were two young men, neither of them looking much older than Renjun himself but clearly professionals. The taller of the two was in a formal police uniform, his tie neat and his badges clearly displayed, while the other was clad in all black, a bulletproof vest strapped to his chest and what appeared to be an automatic shotgun held tightly in his hands. The one in the uniform was confident, taking long steps to cross the room and stand in front of Renjun, flashing his badge along the way, while the one with the gun was less certain, lingering by the door after it closed, looking like he wanted to move further into the room but unsure if he should.

To say Renjun was confused was an understatement, and as he looked between Kun’s stern expression and the faces of the two younger men in the room, none of them gave anything away. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, speaking Korean for the benefit of the two strangers in the room-- the one with the gun, to his credit, looked taken aback. “What’s going on here?”

The one in the uniform cleared his throat, slipping his badge back into his pocket with the grace of someone who had done it several times before. “Huang Renjun,” he said grimly. “You are under investigation for the murder of Minh Luong, the Vietnamese representative for the fifty meter pistol event at the Seoul Olympic Games.”

Renjun blinked for a few moments, the words not quite sinking in. Investigation? Murder? It was so far out of the realm of possibility for him that he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. When they did sink in, though, he stood up. “Murder?” he echoed, startled. Out of the corner of his eye, Renjun saw the young man near the door grip his gun tighter, probably jarred by the sudden movement. Renjun swallowed, realizing it was probably in his best interest to try and keep calm, and sat back down slowly. “Someone was murdered?” he continued, trying to keep his voice down.

The man with the uniform on nodded, face grim and lips pressed together tightly. He was handsome, Renjun noted hazily, but in a cute way, rather unbefitting of an investigator. “Yes, unfortunately,” he confirmed, clasping his hands. “We’re currently investigating all possible leads on the case, including any witnesses or suspects. We’ve also arranged a security detail for other participants in the event, as we have reason to believe others might be in danger.”

Renjun felt his breath leave him in a shaky gasp, and he looked at Kun, who was standing tensed next to him. He looked back at the young men in front of him, the fear starting to kick in. “Someone might be trying to kill us?” he asked shakily.

The man seemed to consider his words carefully, before settling on a cautious, “We have reason to believe so, yes.” He straightened up then, appearing more confident clearly to attempt to reassure Renjun.

“Don’t worry, though,” he continued, turning to gesture to the man at the door, who straightened up into perfect posture once the attention was focused on him. “We’ve assigned Agent Lee here to keep watch on you. Jeno’s a bit new, but he’s one of the best agents on the case. You’ll be safe with him.”

Renjun looked to Jeno, who looked back at him with cheeks that were just a bit pink. He nodded at Renjun, putting on enough of a smile that Renjun was convinced enough to smile back. He was the more typically handsome of the two, with broad shoulders to match his height and a square jaw. Still, though, the two of them looked quite young, easily passing for young men the same age as Renjun himself. Although, Renjun thought distractedly, if he was old enough to be at the Olympic level, then these young men were probably old enough to work.

“And I’m Police Detective Na Jaemin,” the one in the uniform added, and Renjun looked back to find Jaemin smiling at him. If Renjun had met either of them under different circumstances, he probably would have had a crush on them by now. As it stood, though, someone had just been murdered, so his romantic interests were on the backburner. “I’m the lead investigator for this case. I hope you’ll cooperate with us.”

Renjun nodded hurriedly, clasping his hands together earnestly. "Of course," he assured, sincerity pouring out of him to the point that he surprised even himself. "Of course, I'll cooperate. Whatever you need."

Jaemin seemed satisfied by that, giving him a close-lipped smile and a short nod. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, taking a step back.

"I need to visit the other representatives, but I or another investigator will be back to take your statement shortly," Jaemin said, the picture of a crisp young professional, making his way towards the door. "For now, I'll have to ask you to stay in your room until we can ensure the safety of yourself and the other representatives of this event. Jeno here will be staying with you until then." His hand landed on Jeno's shoulder heavily, and Jeno startled just slightly, his gaze turning from where it was trained on Renjun to look at Jaemin. The uniformed man just grinned at Jeno as the agent stared back at Jaemin with wide eyes. Even from across the room, Renjun could feel tension crackling between them, and he would be more curious about it if the circumstances were any different.

"Oh, please refrain from using your phone as well. We want to keep this quiet as to not cause a public panic," Jaemin added as the door opened. "If you need to contact anyone, or if you need anything, just ask Jeno. I assure you that he'll take good care of you." And then, with a wink, Jaemin was gone, slipping past Jeno out the door and pulling it tightly shut behind him.

Renjun stared at the door, past Jeno, whose eyes were trained on him again, until Kun spoke, startling him out of his reverie. "Your wrist," he said in Mandarin, hardly reacting when Renjun flinched. When he glanced over, his manager looked exhausted, posture tense as he moved to sit at the edge of the bed. He had his arms crossed, his left hand tucked beneath his right arm as his right hand pressed to his temple. For someone not that much older than Renjun, Kun seemed so much older and wearier in this moment. "Have you been doing what I told you?"

"I— Of course," Renjun replied, fumbling to grab the hot pack to show it to Kun. "I've been trying to rest it as much as possible." Kun nodded, seeming to relax slightly at that— he dropped his head, rubbing his hand along his forehead as he let out a sigh.

After a few moments of silence, Renjun spoke up. Now that the shock had died down, the curiosity was eating at him. "What... happened?" he began uncertainly, gripping the hot pack tightly and kneading it with both hands. "The Vietnamese representative was killed? Why? And why am I under investigation?"

Kun seemed to hesitate for a moment, rubbing his forehead silently before he lifted his head up. "Yes, he was killed," his manager explained slowly. "He was found about two hours ago, after someone nearby reported hearing something that sounded like a gunshot from his room. It seems like someone got into his room somehow, and just... shot him."

The way Kun described it sent chills down Renjun's spine, and he tucked his legs in a bit closer to his body, glancing at the door anxiously. To his relief, Jeno was still there, upright and alert and looking back at Renjun. He nodded at Renjun, giving him a small smile— the other man likely didn't understand what they were saying, as him and Kun were speaking in Mandarin, but Renjun appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

He looked back at Kun then, the other man still rubbing his forehead nervously. "And why am I under investigation?" he continued, anxious. "Why am I not just... A potential witness? Why am I both a suspect and someone to protect?"

Kun paused then, slowly lifting his head out of his hands. When he looked at Renjun, his gaze was imploring, almost like he was waiting for Renjun to confess something. "Because it was a clean shot, right between the eyes," he answered, and Renjun froze. "That sort of shot had to have come from someone with experience holding a gun. They probably think the killer is trying to eliminate the competition."

Renjun felt his heart sinking like a shipwreck at that, slowly taking on water and being pulled down to settle at the bottom of his chest. Eliminating the competition? For what? Was there even a point of competing, then, if you were going to be guaranteed to win? It's not even like pistol shooting was an especially popular sport with great benefits tied to those who won— Renjun loved his sport with his whole heart, but he wasn't exactly naive enough to believe that he would achieve the same level of fame and notoriety as a champion soccer player if he won the gold for shooting. He slumped backwards in his seat then, a sigh heaving out of him as he stared at Kun. "What the fuck," he couldn't help but whisper, only moving his eyes away from Kun to close them and press a hand to his face. "This is so messed up, what the fuck."

Kun didn't respond immediately, leaving Renjun to stew in his chaotic thoughts for a moment, which the young man was honestly grateful for. It was a hard thing to digest— not only did the police think he had a target on his back, but apparently they thought that Renjun was the one who put it there.

"What matters most is that you play it safe," Kun seemed to settle on eventually, picking over his words. When Renjun opened his eyes, his manager was leaning forward to put the hot pack back on his wrist, wrapping it over the jut of Renjun's bone attentively. "Keep your head down, answer whatever questions they ask you, don't take any risks. Murder or not, the Olympics are soon, and you need to take care of yourself."

Renjun let out a bit of a dry laugh, looking down at his wrist. "Can't win the Olympics if I get killed," he mumbled, existential and vague.

"That won't happen," Kun said, so immediately and confidently that Renjun looked up, surprised. Kun pulled back from Renjun before continuing, standing and giving him a gentle smile. "You've got an armed guard at your door and half of Seoul's police force swarming this hotel," he added eventually, nodding over his shoulder to where Jeno was still standing at the door. "There's no way anyone will be able to kill you."

Renjun swallowed his nerves at that, feeling Kun's words settle in. His manager was right. He was well protected. Nothing bad was going to happen to him, the games were going to happen as planned, and everything was going to be fine. Renjun was going to win the gold, and _everything was going to be fine._

"Thanks, ge," Renjun managed after a moment, feeling himself deflate. His shoulders dropped, hands unclenching from fists as the thought repeated like a mantra in his head. _Everything was going to be fine_. "You're right. It won't happen."

Kun seemed satisfied at that, his smile broadening a bit as he made his way to the door. "Of course I'm right, I'm your manager," he said, false smugness bleeding into his tone, and Renjun couldn't help but smile a bit in response. "I'm going to go, I've got a bunch of calls to make to the Olympic committee about this."

Renjun nodded, moving his free hand to press down on the hot pack gently. "Go, go," he urged. "Don't tell my family though, okay? My mom will worry too much."

Kun just waved his hand, waiting for Jeno to open the door for him and giving him a curt nod in return. "Make sure to ice that soon," he called back to Renjun, and then the door shut behind him.

===

Renjun didn't realize how difficult it would be to live in a luxury hotel room under strict surveillance until he had no options but that.

It wasn't long after Kun left that another pair of police officers came into Renjun's hotel room, the two of them clearly older than Renjun himself but definitely still younger than thirty. They'd introduced themselves as Jaehyun and Jungwoo, smiling charmingly as they came into Renjun's hotel room, then proceeded to search every last nook and cranny of Renjun's hotel room, all while Jeno kept a watchful eye. Renjun hadn't exactly hoped that the first time Jeno saw his underwear to be as Jungwoo pulled each and every one out of the hotel dresser drawer, but it wasn't as if he had any say in the situation at all. They'd swabbed him for gunpowder residue as well, and then the two men had been gone, leaving the room a bit more ruffled than it had been when they'd came in and well and thoroughly searched. At least Jungwoo had the decency to put his underwear back into the drawer after he rifled through it.

Now, sitting in silence with Jeno's eyes on him by the door, the room felt stifling. He was restless, wanting to shift and fidget every five seconds, but he knew that the agitation could make him look suspicious. The last thing on Renjun's to do list was to make the young cop at the door wary of him— but then again, Renjun supposed that his to do list had been more or less cleared until this whole murder case was resolved.

It only took about half an hour of Renjun sitting by the window in tense and uncomfortable silence for him to snap. He looked over to Jeno abruptly, the other man sitting up a bit straighter at his movement, and blurted out, "Can I turn on the TV?"

It was only once the words were out of his mouth and Jeno was starting to smile slightly that Renjun realized what an absurd question it was. He was in a hotel room, _his_ hotel room, with all the luxuries and amenities that offered— not a prison cell. He had the decency to flush when Jeno slowly answered, "Yes, you can watch TV."

Renjun flicked on the TV alarmingly fast, letting whatever sort of historical drama the device turned on to play just to fill the silence of the room. To his credit, Jeno didn't say anything about it, simply leaning against the door with his gun held loosely in his hands. The TV did help somewhat, especially once Renjun was able to zone out and shift his thoughts to the handsome young men and women on the screen, but he still felt like he was hyper aware of any sort of noise Jeno did make, every shift of weight or slightly heavy breath enough to have Renjun looking over at him in a heartbeat. It was unnerving, to know that his every move was being watched, and it didn't help at all when the person doing the watching betrayed so little on their face. Although, Renjun realized belatedly, that was probably what made Jeno perfect for this job.

As the day went on, and afternoon dragged into evening, more problems with this whole situation started showing themselves. Most pressingly, as Renjun's stomach rumbled, food. There wasn't much of a kitchen in the hotel suite— Renjun's options were limited to a small fridge stocked with drinks and some small snacks, or a coffee maker— so Renjun slowly reached out to take the room service menu off the table, watching Jeno in case the other man moved to stop him.

Instead of stopping him, Jeno just looked surprised, the wide eyed expression quickly changing to bashfulness. "Oh," he said softly, then let out an embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, of course. I was supposed to tell you that earlier, sorry."

Considering how hungry Renjun had let himself get before finally making a move to order anything, he probably should have been mad at Jeno's mistake. Looking at the other man, though, all Renjun found himself saying was, "Would you like anything?"

The smile dropped off Jeno's face at that, replaced by a graceless, shocked expression, and for a second Renjun was worried he'd said something wrong, until Jeno let out a confused, "Huh?"

Renjun pursed his lips, trying not to laugh at the other's expression. "You've been stuck in here as long as me," he pointed out, dropping his gaze to flip through the menu. "You must be hungry. What do you want to eat?"

Renjun saw Jeno shake his head hurriedly out of the corner of his eye and he looked back over at the other man. "No, I'm fine," he said initially, and Renjun was going to leave it at that, until Jeno added, "I shouldn't," and Renjun sighed.

"Everything is being expensed to my agency," he explained, standing up. He made his way over to Jeno, who watched him with tense shoulders and wide eyes, then held the menu out for him. Jeno looked at him for a few moments, shocked, then slowly let go of his gun with one hand to take it. The gun hung around Jeno's neck on a strap, black metal glinting menacingly. "If you're hungry, you should eat. Don't worry about it."

Jeno seemed to hesitate for a few minutes, even though the menu was already in his hand, before he slowly nodded, opening it to read it. Up close to Jeno like this, and without the pressure of Jeno watching him so closely, Renjun could take the time to really look at Jeno, taking in how handsome he was. The other man was clearly fit, lean yet defined muscles showing through the tight sleeves of his shirt. His hair was dark, thick and full, maybe a bit overgrown, his bangs coming down his forehead, nearly far enough to touch his eyelashes. His jaw was square and his face was thin, but not particularly angular, handsome to look at but not pretty like Jaemin was.

Sufficient to say, Renjun thought he was hot. He might have to ask for Jeno's phone number after this whole murder investigation thing was over with.

"Um," Jeno said, and Renjun blinked, realizing Jeno had caught him staring. Thankfully, the agent didn't mention it. "Just a sandwich, I guess. Doesn't matter which one." He handed the menu back to Renjun, and the Chinese man took it, trying to avoid looking at Jeno lest he find himself staring again.

He called to order room service, using the phone in his hotel room under the watchful eye of Jeno, and then it was back to sitting in silence, the noise from the TV filling up the space. Thankfully, their food didn't take long to arrive, and after a careful inspection of the food and the room service cart by Jeno, the two of them were able to eat. Renjun brought Jeno a chair by the door, pulling it away from the table he was seated at across the room, and although the other man was hesitant at first, he eventually sat down to eat, pushing the chair's back against the door so he could still watch Renjun from his post.

"So," Renjun said eventually, slowly eating the stew he had ordered for himself. It was warm and rich, but spicier than he expected, his cheeks slightly pink with the heat. "How old are you? I'm only asking because you look like you're only about the same age as me."

Jeno looked a bit surprised at Renjun's question, blinking at him for a moment before answering. Clearly, the other didn't expect that the murder suspect he was watching over would be eager to engage in small talk. "I'm twenty three," he said slowly, sandwich in one hand and gun in the other. He nodded his head towards Renjun, bangs flopping over his forehead. "You?"

"I'm twenty three as well," Renjun replied, a bit of a smile on his face. He took another spoonful of stew, humming a bit thoughtfully, but didn't add anything else after that.

It took a few minutes for Renjun to notice it, but in the silence that followed, the same tense energy from before had filled the air. When Renjun looked, he realized Jeno was watching him— not with the passive gaze he'd had earlier of someone who was only watching because they were supposed to, but with curiosity to it, like Renjun was something Jeno wanted to figure out. Renjun cleared his throat, equal parts endeared and nervous, and Jeno seemed to snap out of it, dropping his gaze with a murmured, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Renjun assured quickly, dragging his chair around so he could face Jeno directly. He leaned an elbow against the table and rested a hand on it, stew left to the side for a moment. "Was there something you wanted to ask?"

Jeno had the decency to look flustered by his staring, peeking up at Renjun. "I was just wondering how you know how to speak Korean so well," the officer mumbled, before taking a bite of his sandwich to shut himself up.

Renjun let out a laugh, shaking his head. "I drew up in Jilin," he explained. "We speak Korean and Mandarin there, and I took Korean in school. I just kept using it once I graduated, since I had some Korean friends, so I never really forgot it."

Jeno let out a small impressed noise at that, looking up at Renjun again with round eyes. "I don't remember any of the English I learned in school," he remarked candidly. "That's awesome."

Renjun let out laugh at Jeno's comment, waving a hand as he turned back to his stew. "I just liked studying it a lot," he said casually, taking another bite as Jeno made a noise in response. "I'm sure you're good at the things you liked studying too."

The conversation between them dwindled after that, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence like before, rather something a bit more companionate, easy for Renjun to sit in. It wasn't until Renjun was getting ready to go to bed that the tension came back. He hasn't realized how hard it was to try to sleep in a dark room with someone else there, every little shift and sound from Jeno making Renjun open his eyes again. And it was only then, in the dark and silence of the night, that the events of the day came back to him, reality beginning to set in. Someone was killed. Someone had intentionally come into another person's hotel room, and killed someone that Renjun knew. For what? For fame? To win at the Olympics? It wasn't worth that much. Nothing was worth taking another person's life over. And now, Renjun was stuck in his hotel room with a near stranger watching him (because as cute as Jeno was, he was still a stranger), both a guilty perpetrator to catch and an innocent victim to protect.

It took a while to happen, but Renjun eventually fell into a fitful sleep. The only time he woke up was when the door opened, a small "Goodnight, Renjun," as the shift changed and Jeno closed the door.

===

When Renjun woke up, there was another young man sitting by the door, foot propped up on a chair, slightly curly and dyed hair wrapped up in a bandana. He looked up when Renjun sat up, seeming to have been bored before, and said in Mandarin, "Oh, you're up."

Renjun furrowed his eyebrows, not sure if he was hearing things in his half asleep state. "What did you say?" he asked, Korean slurred and sleepy.

"I said, you're up," the other man repeated in Mandarin, staring back at Renjun with a confused expression. "Aren't you Chinese? Or did I read the paper wrong?"

"Wh— yes, of course I'm Chinese," Renjun stuttered out in offended Mandarin, rubbing his eyes to get a good look at this punk. He looked to be about the same age as Renjun, maybe a bit younger, but looked leagues more comfortable in the room than Jeno had, slouched and leaning over in the chair. "Are you?"

The agent brightened at that, his eyes glinting as his lips spread into a smile. "Ah, there it is," he said, satisfied. He stood from the chair, one hand on his gun as he marched over and held his other hand out to Renjun.

"Agent Liu," he introduced brightly, "but you can call me Yangyang."

As it turned out, it wasn't entirely reasonable for one person to watch Renjun twenty four hours a day, so the supervision had been divided into shifts, with Jeno taking the afternoon and evening while Yangyang took the overnight into the morning. The two, as it turned out, were quite like night and day in their personality too. While Jeno was quiet and nervous, Yangyang was excitable and loved chatter, despite having stayed up all night keeping watch in a dark room. He asked Renjun about his life, and shared glimpses of his own life too— born in Taiwan, raised in Germany, moved to Korea for university, then became a cop.

"I want to specialize in multinational crimes," Yangyang explained eagerly, sitting up happily in his seat as Renjun sipped at a cup of coffee. "Guess this is a good place to start, right?"

Renjun hummed, lips pressed against his coffee mug. "Well, you're very... international," he replied slowly. "It makes sense for you."

Yangyang nodded happily, clearly pleased by Renjun's approval. "It does, right?" he said, then nodded towards the coffee machine. "Hey, can I make myself one?"

As much as Jeno's silence had made Renjun feel awkward the day before, Renjun found himself missing it as the day went on. Not that there was anything wrong with Yangyang's chatter— it was nice to have someone to talk to as a distraction, and someone who spoke Mandarin was a bonus on top of that— but the energy was different between them. If Renjun was going to be trapped inside a hotel room over a murder investigation, he wanted some time to sit with his thoughts, which Yangyang didn't give much opportunity for.

Thankfully, a knock sounded on Renjun's door only a few hours into the morning, and Yangyang opened it to Jaemin standing on the other side. Renjun smiled when he saw the other man, thankful for a familiar face.

"Hey Renjun," the uniformed man said, waiting at the door. "Can I come in?"

Renjun nodded, gesturing for the other to come in, and the investigator did so happily, almost a skip in his step as he made his way over to the table by the window. "Can I take a seat?" he asked, and Renjun nodded to the seat across from him, replying, "You don't even have to ask."

Jaemin grinned as he took a seat across from Renjun, setting down a small voice radio and a recording device on the table. Despite his upbeat demeanor, Renjun could see up close that Jaemin had bags under his eyes, a small bit of stubble on his chin, his smile pulled a little too tense at the corners— Renjun wouldn't be surprised if the other man had been up all night working on their case. Still, the boyish handsomeness hadn't gone away; now that the shock from yesterday's events had worn off, Renjun, to his despair, felt his cheeks heating up under Jaemin's gaze.

"I'm going to need to interview you and take your statement now," Jaemin said, tapping the recording device on the table gently. "Is that alright with you?"

Renjun didn't know why Jaemin was even asking— he was a cop, and Renjun was a suspect. It wasn't as if he had much choice. "Sure," he said, and Jaemin clicked the device on. "I mean, it's not as if I have a packed schedule right now."

Jaemin let out a laugh, high-pitched and bright, but he did have the decency to look a bit apologetic at Renjun's situation. "It's for your safety. I hope you understand," he said, and Renjun waved his hand in assurance. He did understand— it was just inconvenient. "Now," Jaemin added, "Can you please state your name and date of birth for the record?"

It was as much of a police interview as Renjun had expected it to be from all of the police and crime-themed drams he had seen before. Jaemin asked him a few questions to confirm his identity, then began to get into the grit of the situation, asking about his movements throughout yesterday, where he went, who he talked to. He asked about his relationship with the vic, how long they had known each other, if they talked often, when the last time they saw each other was. Jaemin was nice and friendly throughout, and at points it didn't feel as if Jaemin was talking to Renjun to figure out whether or not he killed someone; it felt like Jaemin was talking to Renjun as a friend, just curious about his life, what he had been up to. Still, though, there was a bit of bite to each of Jaemin's words, a glint in his eye that let Renjun know the investigator was serious and focused, picking up on every shift and lilt and twitch as Renjun spoke. It was attractive, like a shark gliding through the water, all dangerous wit and cunning hidden behind wide grins and bright laughter. Renjun thought, absently, that was what made Jaemin perfect for this job— he was easy to trust, easy for Renjun to let his guard down around, and even though Renjun knew he had nothing to worry about, there was still that fear that he would step out of line and Jaemin would pin him like an animal stalking its prey. It was scary— but if Renjun was being honest, he liked the thrill.

All things considered, though, the interview went well for Renjun. He wasn't arrested by the end of it, and Jaemin didn't seem particularly less trusting of him then when compared to before, so he figured that things were fine— until Jaemin pulled out a picture of a shell casing next to an evidence marker, clearly on the carpet of a hotel room floor, and Renjun froze.

"We found this at the crime scene, and when we ran this shell-casing through ballistics," Jaemin explained calmly, pushing the picture closer to Renjun, "it turned out to be a match for the bullets used by the Olympic shooting pistols." Renjun swore his heart skipped a beat as Jaemin looked at him, a tight-lipped smile playing across his mouth. "Do you know anything about that?"

Renjun's heart was pounding as he looked at the shell-casing. There was no doubt about it, it was the same one Renjun had seen in practices, in the qualifiers leading up to the main event— someone had used and Olympic pistol to kill someone. Someone was trying to take out the competition.

"No," Renjun almost whispered, shaking his head as he looked back up at Jaemin. "No, I don't know anything about that."

Jaemin hummed thoughtfully then, nodding. "Then can you explain why," he began, "when we checked all of the Olympic pistols for prints, we found everyone else's print on a gun except yours?" Renjun's eyes widened, and Jaemin tilted his head. "And why we found one gun completely wiped of any prints?"

Renjun's eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head again, more firmly this time. "I used my gun at practice, and that was it," he said, a bit of indignancy creeping into his voice. They couldn't even prove he used a gun— and sure, it looked bad for his prints not to be on any gun, but there was no way that they could use a lack of prints to connect him to the crime. "The gun must have been cleaned somehow. I don't know who did it or when they did it, but I used the gun at practice and the qualifiers. That's it."

Jaemin let out another hum, nodding for a moment, then shrugged, tucking the pictures away. "You're right, the gun must have been cleaned," he mused. "The only thing is when, by who, and why. But if it's not you, and we have no proof that it's you— well." He shrugged, clasping his hands together. "I guess you're stuck here another day, Renjun."

Renjun wasn't sure if he should smile at the prospect of being stuck inside this hotel room any longer— but it certainly beat a jail cell. "As long as you find out the truth, that's what matters," he said, and Jaemin nodded with a knowing smile.

The interview wrapped up shortly after that, Jaemin turning off the recorder and getting his things together to leave. Renjun felt like he had nearly run a marathon, despite only having sat in a chair and talked to Jaemin for less than an hour. The investigator, on the other hand, looked even more energetic than he had when he'd come in; in fact, the other man almost looked intrigued.

Instead of Yangyang standing at the door when Jaemin was leaving, though, Jeno was stood there, in the same all-black uniform he had been in yesterday. Renjun startled a bit when he looked over and saw him— he hadn't realized that Yangyang's shift had ended, hadn't even heard the two change. The officer gave Renjun a small smile and nod when he realized the other was looking at him— but when he saw Jaemin approaching the door, his cheeks turned pink. Renjun couldn't help the small pang of jealousy in his chest as Jaemin grinned over Jeno's reaction. _Must be nice to be that handsome_ , he thought, only a bit bitterly.

"Ah, Agent Lee, I didn't realize your shift had started," Jaemin lied blatantly— there was no way that the observant investigator hadn't noticed Yangyang and Jeno swapping out. He stepped close enough to put a hand on Jeno's shoulder; he gave it a squeeze and Jeno jumped as Renjun's hands twisted in his lap. "Are you taking good care of Renjun here?"

"Yes," Jeno replied, nerves clearly bleeding into his voice. It was written all over him, in every move he made— Jaemin made him flustered. "He even ordered me dinner yesterday."

"Oh, aren't you lucky," Jaemin teased, leaning a bit closer to Jeno, who leaned back just a bit, eyes wide. "Must be nice to have a nice man buy you dinner. All I get is the cheap instant noodles that Doyoung-hyung sends the intern to buy from the convenience store. What a shame."

"I can order food for you next time," Renjun called suddenly from where he was sitting across the room, and he felt his face instantly heat up as the two men by the door looked at him in surprise. He couldn't back down, though, and he tried to play it casual, shrugging and leaning back in his chair. "My agency is covering all the expenses," he added, "and you need to eat as much as I do. It's not a big deal."

Jaemin grinned at that, clapping Jeno's shoulder again as he looked back at the agent again. "I guess you aren't that special then~" he sang jokingly, nudging Jeno as he moved past him and out the door. He waved back at Renjun before it closed, a mischievous smile on his face as he called, "I'll hold you to that, Renjun-ah!"

The door shut heavily behind Jaemin, and the room was silent for a few moments, before Renjun let out a groan, dragging himself over to his bed and flopping down on it, exhausted. Something about Jaemin made Renjun feel like he was wired and high-strung at all times, even when the other man wasn't interviewing him. He lifted his head off of the blankets to find Jeno staring at him curiously, and Renjun sighed, flipping onto his back. "He's dangerously charming, isn't he," he muttered, more of a comment than a question, but he was surprised when he heard a laugh from Jeno's direction.

When he looked over, the other man was still a bit red in the face, fiddling with the collar of his turtleneck. "Yeah, he's something else," Jeno murmured, and Renjun raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Jeno to say something so off the cuff and unguarded, and Renjun wasn't sure if it was because Jeno was more relaxed around him now as compared to yesterday, or if it was because they were talking about Jaemin. Either way, it was certainly interesting.

Despite the initial tension, things seemed more relaxed compared to the day before once Renjun and Jeno both got over their embarrassment at the hands of Jaemin. Renjun turned on the TV without hesitation, some sort of variety show playing this time, and took a long, hot shower that helped him relax, despite needing to keep the door unlocked and the knowledge that Jeno was waiting right outside the door. He thought he'd seen a dusting of pink on Jeno's face when he'd stepped out of the bathroom, in thin lounge clothes with wet hair, but he wrote it off as being caused by the humidity from the shower steam, moving to sit by the window again. Jeno was less resistant when Renjun offered to order him food this time as well, only refusing once out of politeness before he easily gave in and ordered something. Jeno still sat across the room when the room service cart came, still inspected it thoroughly before he let it inside, but it wasn't as tense as before. They weren't scared of each other anymore— Jeno was comfortable with Renjun, and Renjun with him in return.

It's why Renjun didn't think much of it when he asked Jeno mid-meal, "So, are you and Jaemin just coworkers? Or do you know each other well?"

Jeno nearly choked on the sandwich he was eating, and Renjun startled, his chopsticks falling out of his hand and clattering on the plate of stir-fried pork. He snatched them up quickly as Jeno coughed a few times, clearing his throat. "Um," the officer managed eventually, looking at Renjun nervously. "Why do you ask?"

Renjun held his hands up, giving his head a little shake. "I'm just curious!" he said hurriedly, then grabbed another piece of pork. "You two just seem to have an... Interesting relationship, that's all." He shoved the pork into his mouth hurriedly, stopping himself from saying more on the matter.

Jeno seemed to contemplate for a few moments how he should answer, fidgeting quietly in his seat. He was clearly nervous, his shoulders tense and head dropped low, but eventually he answered, his voice no more than a murmur. "Well," he said slowly, "Jaemin asked me out a couple of days ago."

This time it was Renjun's turn to nearly choke, the tightness in his throat combined with a sinking feeling in his chest. So this explained things, then. "Oh," he said, a bit despondent, then noticed how concerned Jeno looked and immediately tried to brighten up. "That's great! Like, on a date?"

Jeno's face flushed and he seemed to shrink into his chair, despite his tall and muscular frame. "Like, to be his boyfriend," he mumbled embarrassedly. "We've gone on a few dates already, so..."

Renjun had to work hard to keep his face bright, reminding himself how much of a risk Jeno was taking by telling him this. He knew first-hand how hard it was being gay in China, and it wasn't as if Korea was haven either. "Even better," he encouraged, seeing Jeno relax a little bit with each of Renjun's encouragements. "So did you say yes?"

Jeno let out a nervous laugh, letting go of his gun for a moment to scratch the back of his neck. "I didn't get a chance to answer him," he admitted, voice soft. "We were at the station when he asked me, and we got interrupted by the call to come here."

Something twisted in Renjun's stomach at that, before a heavy weight settled inside of him. Right, himself and the other participants stuck in the hotel weren't the only ones whose lives were inconvenienced by this. Jeno clearly had much more important things to do rather than sit and watch Renjun all day, yet here he was for twelve hours a day, wasting his time for nothing. Jaemin, too, spending all night investigating, rather than going home and sleeping like most people should be doing. It was a sobering reality check for Renjun, and he pressed his lips together as it sunk in.

"Well, don't let that go to waste," he advised, nodding as he spoke. "Jaemin seems like a great guy. You should say yes soon, if you like him. Otherwise, someone else might ask him instead."

Jeno nodded slowly, ducking his head again. "Right," he said, seeming a bit less certain now, to Renjun's surprise. "I'll give him an answer soon."

It was easier for Renjun to get ready for bed and fall asleep that night, even with Jeno in the room. Now, he could trust Jeno a bit more, the thought of being murdered more than a thousand miles away. The exhaustion from the interview with Jaemin earlier wiped him out more than he expected as well, and when Jeno's shift ended and Yangyang took over, Renjun was sleeping deep enough to not notice.

===

The next two days followed a similar routine to the previous. Renjun would spend his morning talking with Yangyang, chatting with the young man over coffee, then Jaemin would come in, sitting down to take more statements and ask more questions. In the afternoon, Yangyang would leave and Jeno would take his place, and the two would watch TV together, chatting occasionally over dinner and through the evening until Renjun went to bed. At one point, Kun came to visit him, checking on his wrist and giving him an update on things with his agency and his parents, but beside that, each day was routine. And with each minute that passed, the more Renjun grew sick of it.

The hotel was suffocating. As nice as it was to be in a luxury hotel, everything paid for, room service whenever he wanted and a soft bed for Renjun to sleep in each night, it was still a place that he was stuck in. Even the nicest of places became a prison when you weren't allowed to leave, and by the end of the fourth day cooped up in his room, Renjun was going to lose it. He needed out, now.

Unfortunately, with Jeno watching him, it wasn't that easy. Renjun knew better than to even think of bringing it up to Yangyang— as playful as the overnight guard was, he was clearly more on guard than Jeno was, his hand never leaving his gun at any point, while Jeno was much more inclined to let his gun hang off the strap around his neck. If he was going to get out of here at any point, it was going to be through Jeno.

He brought it up a few hours before their usual dinner time, digging through his clothes to find a face mask as he spoke. "Jeno," he began, making sure to keep his voice calm and level despite every single nerve in his body screaming at him to kick down the door and get outside. "Why am I stuck in here?"

Jeno seemed surprised by Renjun's sudden question, looking up at him with wide eyes. "For your safety," he began, as if on a script, "and for the safety of others. We still haven't caught the murderer yet, whether it's you or someone else."

"Don't you think that, if there was a murderer trying to pick us off to eliminate the competition, they would have done so already?" Renjun mused, finally finding a black face mask and pulling it out. He hooked it over his face as he continued speaking, trying to adjust the coverage on his mouth and nose. "And don't you think that, if I was the murderer, you would have figured it out by now?"

"Renjun," Jeno said, eyebrows furrowed as he watched the other pull out a sweater next. His grip on the gun tightened, holding it with both hands, clearly scared that Renjun was trying to pull one on him. "What are you doing?"

"Jeno, I can't stay in here anymore," Renjun explained, his voice shaking slightly with desperation. He'd felt it creeping up inside him for days now, but putting it into words made it real, and the unshakeable feeling of _I need to get out_ was consuming him. "I have to get outside, even if it's just for a little bit. I'm going to go crazy."

Jeno shook his head, standing up from the chair as Renjun grabbed a pair of shoes. "Renjun, you can't," he urged. "It's for your own safety. I can't let you. Sit down."

"Jeno _please_ ," Renjun said, not above begging at this point. He moved over to Jeno, who took an apprehensive step back. "Just for a few hours. Please, you know me. I won't hurt anyone. I'll cover up so no one knows me— I won't even stay at the hotel, Jeno, just..." Renjun reached a hand out, placing it on top of Jeno's where he was holding the gun. "Please."

Jeno seemed to hesitate at that, the conflict apparent all over his face. Renjun was right about how Jeno thought of him— the younger believed that he was innocent and wanted to set him free. Slowly, gently as to not startle him, Renjun moved his hand up Jeno's, sliding along the skin until he could wrap a hand around his wrist.

Jeno took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes, and Renjun could see his resolve break down. "Two hours," he breathed, clearly still tense, but it was a victory nonetheless. "Two hours, that's all you get. You keep your mask on the whole time, you don't stay in the area near the hotel, you take the back entrance in and out, and you don't talk to _anyone_. And if you aren't back here in two hours, I will personally track you down to shoot you. Do you understand?"

Despite Jeno's threats, Renjun could feel himself smiling, and he nodded eagerly, throwing his arms around Jeno for a half second before he felt the hard press of the gun between them and yanked himself back. "Absolutely," he said hurriedly, moving to shove his shoes on his feet. "Completely clear, I understand entirely, I'll be good, I'll be back on time, I promise, okay?"

Jeno just groaned in response, running a hand through his dark hair and pushing his bangs off of his forehead. It was the first time Renjun had seen him so disheveled, usually dressed neatly in his uniform and without a hair out of place, and the sight made him pause for a moment to appreciate it before he remembered what he was going to do. He didn't want to wait too long and for Jeno to change his mind.

Renjun hurried over to the door, hand on the knob as Jeno moved after him. "Is there anyone waiting outside?" he asked, hesitant to open the door in case he foiled his own plan before it even began.

"There's someone by the elevator if you go down the hall to the right, but they're around a corner, so they shouldn't see you if you go to the left," Jeno explained, and Renjun was impressed that the officer was helping him escape. "Go to the left and there will be an emergency exit staircase that you can go down to get to the main floor. After that, you can just take the back exit to get outside. But don't walk around to the front of the hotel— there's cruisers out there, too. Just walk through the parking lot at the back and then you'll be free."

Renjun took a moment to look at Jeno, amazed, even though the other was avoiding his eyes. The fact that Jeno was going so far out of his way to help him, breaking his code as a police officer, was amazing to Renjun. In the back of his mind, a voice whispered that Jeno could be leading him into a trap, but Renjun squashed it down, his desperation to be free overriding all other logical thoughts at this moment.

"Thank you," Renjun murmured, heartfelt and sincere. "Really, Jeno. Thank you." And with that, the door was open, and Renjun was stepping out into the hall.

True to Jeno's words, it was empty, not a soul in sight as Jeno closed the door as quietly as possible behind him. Renjun spared a grateful look back at the closed door before he began to make his way down the hall, quick, light foot steps carrying him to the emergency staircase Jeno had mentioned. He opened the door and hurried down it, sneakers ringing against the metal, and Renjun was reaching for the door handle at the bottom when the door swung open, nearly hitting him in the face.

Renjun nearly screamed when someone was caught, but he managed to keep the noise in when he saw that it was Kun, his manager looking at him as if he had seen a ghost. Renjun's nerves reached a fever pitch at his expression, and he was opening his mouth to explain to his manager when the other man shushed him, pushing him back into the staircase and closing the door behind him. The words "he let you out?" were the last things Renjun expected to hear from the older man, and it took Renjun a moment to realize that it wasn't a dream, Kun was actually saying that to him.

"J-Just for two hours," Renjun said shakily, still strung up from nearly getting caught. "I have to be back before then, or he'll let them know I left."

"That's fine, two hours is enough," Kun said vaguely, and Renjun was confused by it as the elder pulled out his phone. "Where do you want to go?" his manager offered, already typing something in. "I'll call you a cab."

"Ge, you— it's fine, I can walk," Renjun tried to assure, reaching a hand out to placate him, but Kun shook his head, insistent.

"I don't want you walking the streets alone," he said hurriedly, giving Renjun an expectant look. "Just tell me where you want to go. Let ge take care of it."

Renjun hesitated for a few moments, anxiety gripping his throat, before he decided to trust Kun and go with it. "Dongdaemun?" he suggested, and Kun nodded in agreement quickly, typing something into his phone before shoving it back into his pocket.

"A cab will be here soon to pick you up," Kun said, reaching out to grab Renjun's hand and tug him out of the staircase. "Let's go." The older man pulled him down the hall, Renjun following confusedly, before he realized that Kun was taking him out of the same back exit that Jeno had told him about, unguarded and undetected.

When they stopped outside, Kun reached into his pocket, taking out his wallet and picking a handful of bills out of it. "For dinner and the cab home," he said, pressing the money into Renjun's hand. "You'll have to hail one down for yourself for the way back, I'm sorry."

Renjun shook his head, looking confusedly between the money in his hand and his manager's face. "That's fine, ge, that's not a problem, but..." He trailed off, unsure if he should say anymore lest he look a gift horse in the mouth. Shouldn't Kun be upset that he was out of his room? Worried over his safety? His manager was usually on the more rigid side, sticking to schedules and routines, fifteen minutes heat, fifteen minutes cold. Why was he so eager to help Renjun leave.

Before Renjun could say much more, a cab pulled up, and Kun moved forward, opening the door. "Make sure you're back in two hours," he instructed as Renjun get in, and before the younger could get in a word edgewise, he closed the door.

===

As nervous as Renjun had been to leave, especially after the whole situation with Kun, once he settled into the feeling of being outside, the relief was immense. Finally, he didn't just have to watch the streets from his hotel room window; he was out there walking them, passing by people who weren't trying to arrest him for murder, who had no idea who he was at all. Suddenly, the smoggy air of Seoul felt fresher, the breeze tingling his skin in a way it had never done before. The sounds and lights of the city were so much louder and brighter that Renjun felt like he could drown in it, in the most pleasurable way. Even the food tasted better, the cheap, oily food from the food stalls along the road seeming ten times more delicious than the room service at the hotel. For the first time in days, he was able to relax— finally, Renjun was free.

The two hours passed faster than he thought, though, between the food and the lights and the people. By the time Renjun was hailing a cab back to the hotel, the sun was sinking low on the horizon, the young man glancing at his watch hurriedly as the car drove along the busy evening streets of Seoul. He wanted to make it back in time so that Jeno wouldn't report him— but when he arrived at the building and saw a cluster of police cars and ambulances parked around the building, Renjun wished that he hadn't left at all.

The young man managed to make it in through the back exit without anyone stopping him, climbing the emergency stairs all the way to his floor undetected. When he opened the door and looked out into the hall, he nearly ducked back into the stairwell when he saw a gaggle of police officers around a room, the door open and the sounds from the room coming out.

Not just a room, Renjun realized slowly, his blood feeling like it was turning to ice. Donghyuck's room.

Renjun hardly even realized he had moved until his body was colliding with a police officer's, pushing past him to get into Donghyuck's doorway. His friend was sitting up on the ground, a paramedic on either side of him, one of those silver trauma blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He didn't look hurt, which brought Renjun instant relief, but when his friend looked up at him, the Korean man's eyes were filled with fear.

"I-Injunnie, it— it wasn't you right?" his friend was saying, as Renjun felt hands on his arms, pulling him back out of the room. "It— it couldn't have been you."

"What?" Renjun asked, confused and shocked. Donghyuck was shaking like a leaf, arms hugging himself and legs pulled close to his body. "Donghyuck, what are you—"

"The man who shot at me," Donghyuck continued, eyes so wide it seemed as if he was looking past Renjun. "He— he swore at me, in Chinese. It wasn't you, right, Injunnie?"

Renjun swore his heart stopped beating at Donghyuck's words. Suddenly, he felt as small as the young man sitting on the carpet, hands beginning to shake, but he didn't have the luxury of getting a chance to pull himself together. The cold metal of the handcuffs clasping around his wrists was a shock to his system, and then he was being dragged away, his cries and denials echoing down the hall.

===

The police precinct was decidedly less cozier of an environment to be interviewed in than Renjun's luxury hotel room. The room was small, lit only by a fluorescent bulb over Renjun's head, casting everything in a washed out haze. It made Jaemin, sitting across the table from Renjun, look more intimidating than Renjun could have possibly imagined, his eyes narrowed and his hands folded tensely as he observed Renjun. Even Yangyang, standing watch by the door, seemed scarier in this room, looking down his nose at where Renjun was seated. Jeno, to Renjun's dismay, was notably absent.

"So, Renjun," Jaemin began eventually, unfolding his hands to rest them flat on the table. "I'm interested to hear how you'll explain this one. Why were you out of your room, hm?"

Renjun shook his head, throat feeling like it was closing up. "I just went to Dongdaemun," he said shakily, pleading for the investigators to believe him. "I pushed Jeno into it, he didn't have anything to do with it, but I— I swear I didn't—"

"Pretty convenient timing, huh?" Jaemin interrupted him, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "You manage to leave your room, saying you're going for what, a walk in the park? And all of a sudden, your next biggest competitor is nearly murdered." Jaemin scoffed, tipping his head back slightly. "Yes, so convenient."

"I swear that's all it was," Renjun begged, desperate, his chest heaving. "I swear, Jaemin. I didn't do it. I left my room, sure, that was wrong, but I didn't— not _Donghyuck_ , I couldn't—"

"You were out of your room when it happened," Jaemin said firmly, staring Renjun down with dark eyes. Suddenly, the bright and charming young man Jaemin had appeared as before was gone, replaced with nothing but steely resolve and intimidation, out to pin Renjun down like an animal in a trap. "Out of your room when Lee Donghyuck, your competition, was nearly _killed,_ because you coerced a police officer." The young investigator leaned forward in his seat, nearly glaring at Renjun as he folded his hands in front of him. "You are aware of how that makes you look, right?"

"Jaemin, you don't..." Renjun began, breath picking up as panic built in his chest. He wasn't guilty— why didn't Jaemin believe him? "You don't think— Jaemin, you know me, do you really think I could do that? Just—" he gestured with his hands, aware of how much he was shaking, "just shoot someone I know between the eyes like that and walk away?" He shoved his hands out hurriedly, showing them to Jaemin. "Look, my hands are even shaking now, just talking to you—"

He was cut off by Jaemin grabbing his wrist, the sudden contact making him jump. "Hold on," the other man said, leaning back to scrutinize Renjun. "What did you just say?"

Renjun shook, so hard that he was sure Jaemin could feel it. "That.." he began, before his voice caught and he had to clear his throat. "That I couldn't just shoot someone and walk away?"

Jaemin's grip on his wrist tightened, and Renjun winced. "Shoot someone _where_ , Renjun," he pressed.

Renjun hesitated for a moment. Did he say something wrong? "Between the eyes?" he murmured hesitantly, looking back at Jaemin with wide eyes.

Jaemin's eyes narrowed at that, and he let go of Renjun's wrist, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Renjun, tell me," he said, and now his voice was filled with an icy calm, enough to make Renjun shiver. "How would you know where he was shot if you didn't shoot him?"

Renjun felt his face fall at Jaemin's words, his chest growing tighter with fear. It wasn't making sense. None of this made sense. Renjun wasn't a killer. "But— was that— that's not common knowledge?" he said, his eyebrows furrowing. "But Kun-ge told me..."

Something seemed to pass over Jaemin's face at that, his eyes growing a bit wider, a bit less cold. He turned suddenly to Yangyang, standing at the door, and whatever had occurred to Jaemin must have occurred to Yangyang too, because the officer only gave Jaemin a quick nod before he was hurrying outside, the door shutting heavily behind him. Renjun tried to call after him, but the door was shut before he could say anything. He looked at Jaemin with wide eyes, nearly gasping for breath. "Jaemin, what—"

"Renjun," he said firmly, reaching out again. This time, he took Renjun's hand, clasping it firmly to ground him. His voice now, rather than icy and dangerous, was calm and focused. "Take a deep breath and listen to me. When did Kun tell you that?"

It took a few deep breaths and Jaemin squeezing his hand for Renjun to gather himself enough to speak. "On the first day," he said, voice quivering. He felt frightened tears welling up in his eyes and he hurriedly blinked them away. "R-Right after you came to talk to me."

"Okay," Jaemin said, looking like he was thinking carefully. "Was Jeno in the room?"

Renjun nodded hurriedly, and Jaemin began to look angry again, and Renjun clutched his hand harder. "We only spoke in Mandarin, though," he explained hastily, and Jaemin seemed to simmer slightly. "Kun-ge doesn't know Korean. Jeno wouldn't have understood us."

Jaemin nodded, leaning forward over the table more. "Did Kun know you left your hotel room?" he asked, and Renjun bit his lip before nodding.

"Yes, he saw me," he explained, and Jaemin nodded, encouraging him to go own. "He called me a cab to go to Dongdaemun, since I didn't have my phone with me. He— he even paid for it, and he gave me cash for lunch and the cab back..."

As Renjun spoke, the pieces started to come together in his mind. Knowing what Jaemin and Jeno were going to talk to Renjun about before they had even come into his room that first time. His certainty that no one was going to hurt Renjun. How he hadn't panicked when he caught Renjun out of his room. How he called Renjun a cab to make sure he was away from the scene. How he knew where Minh Luong was shot, despite that detail never being told to anyone else.

Jaemin seemed to notice it too, and he leaned further over the table, looking Renjun in the eyes. "Renjun," he said, voice low, as if he spoke too loudly the fragile hold Renjun had on what was going on around him would break. "Does Kun know the code to your gun case?"

"Yes," Renjun answered, solemn and white as a sheet. "Yes, he does."

===

"Well, these past couple weeks have been interesting," Jaemin said, shoulder to shoulder with Jeno and scuffing his feet. It was still strange for Renjun to see them like this, out of uniform and outside of the confines of his hotel room. Absently, he thinks they look better this way, dressed casually in comfortable t-shirts and jeans, against the busy backdrop of the departures terminal.

"Interesting sure is a word for it," Jeno remarked back with a teasing smile, laughing as Jaemin shoved him. It was especially nice to see Jeno like this, no longer the anxious, gun-toting guard, but rather a normal twenty-something, with a crossbody bag and sneakers on, joking with his new boyfriend at the airport. At one point, Renjun hadn't known if he would ever see Jeno again, the young officer at risk of jail time for interfering with justice. Instead, he'd just been fined, and suspended from his job— which turned out to be a good thing, since Jeno was able to substitute as Renjun's manager once the Olympics happened, watching over him from a different point of view this time. He'd been there as Renjun won the gold fairly— or as fairly as could be, considering everything that had happened— and swept him into a hug after, lifting the smaller man off the ground as they laughed.

Still, despite all the good, there was still the dark moments that haunted at the edges of Renjun's mind in quiet moments. The officers storming on his manager's hotel room. Kun, in handcuffs in the back of a police car. Watching the interrogation through a double-sided mirror, hearing the confession, and the reason behind it, the words carrying the weight of a thousand suns— _I did it so he could win._

"Hey, Injunnie," he heard Jaemin say, and he startled, blinking at the two men in front of him. Jeno and Jaemin were regarding him with worried expressions, the latter leaning a bit further into his personal space. "You okay? We lost you for a second there."

"Yeah," Renjun answered, a bit too quickly, Jeno's frown deepening at the corners. "Yeah, don't worry, I'm fine. I just... I was just thinking."

Jaemin let out a scoff, cuffing Renjun over the ear gently. "Well, stop it," he said, reaching over to fix Renjun's hair where he had pushed it out of place just moments before. Renjun hoped that the two other men couldn't tell how red his face became at the action. "I'm the investigator, I'm the one who does all the thinking. You're the gold-medalist, now, so you don't need to think."

Jeno let out a small whine, moving to get into Jaemin's personal space. "And what am I?" he asked, eyes wide and hopeful. Jaemin grinned back at him devilishly.

"You're just the handsome one," Jaemin teased, then laughed as Jeno pouted, leaning in to kiss it off of his lips.

And there it was— the pang of jealousy in Renjun's chest again. Jeno, true to Renjun's advice, had finally given Jaemin an answer once Kun was arrested and the investigation was concluded, a resounding _yes_ that was followed by bright laughter from Jaemin and a kiss. Renjun was happy for them, of course— they'd done so much for him, especially Jeno, they deserved to be happy and to be happy with each other. But still, Renjun tasted the bitterness on the back of his tongue whenever he saw them together, especially as the three of them grew closer throughout Renjun's stay in Korea. He wanted to be a part of that so badly, but he knew it wasn't his place. His home was back in China, while Jaemin and Jeno belonged in Korea— although the longer Renjun looked at them, smiling and joking in front of him, the less inclined he was to get on that plane.

As if the universe had heard his thoughts, though, a chime resounded through the speakers, announcing that Renjun's flight was beginning to board. And with that, the reality sunk in; whatever turbulent time Renjun had had here, with all its ups and downs, was over, and he was headed back to China. Which meant the most dreaded moment had arrived— saying goodbye to Jeno and Jaemin.

"Don't cry," Jeno said abruptly, likely to try to prevent himself from crying, but Renjun felt his eyes begin to burn immediately, and he had to press his lips together, looking up at the ceiling to stop them from rolling down. He heard a smack, followed by Jeno yelping, then a warm pair of arms was wrapped around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

"Aw, Injunnie," Jaemin murmured, his voice soft and lilting. Jaemin reminded him of the water, warm and comforting as he held Renjun in his grasp, but always hiding so much underneath. "I'll miss you so much. I'm sorry about Jeno— I'll try to teach him some social skills by the time you come back."

And there it was, the crackling wit that Renjun had fallen for. He pulled back with a watery laugh, swiping at his eyes before any tears could fall. "I think that's impossible," he responded with a sniffle, and Jaemin laughed as Jeno made an indignant noise, trailing his hand from Renjun's shoulder down his arm before letting him go.

Renjun stepped over in front of Jeno, and the other wordlessly held out his hand, Renjun placing his own in Jeno's upturned palm before the taller pulled him in for a hug. If Jaemin was the water, then Jeno was the earth— strong, sturdy, consistent, always a solid foundation under his feet when Renjun felt as if he would be swept away by the tide. He'd needed Jeno more than he could say, especially at the Olympics, filling a void in Renjun's heart that the young athlete hadn't even known was there. Renjun was loathe to pull away from him, but when he did, Jeno reached out, taking both of Renjun's hands into his own.

"I'll see you again, right?" Jeno asked, voice soft and uncertain, and suddenly, he was the young man in the hotel room again, awkward and nervous as he met Renjun for the first time. "You're not going to, like— fly back to China and disappear forever, right?"

Renjun shook his head vehemently, squeezing Jeno's hands along with the squeezing of his heart. "I could never do that to you," he whispered, and Renjun hardly had time to process Jeno's murmured, "Good," before the taller man was leaning in to kiss him.

It wasn't much— a small peck on the lips, hardly a second— but it felt like everything Renjun had endured the past few weeks had been worth it. All of the stress, the suffering, the fear, the hardship— all of it was taken off of his shoulders, and he was freer than he had been when walking in Dongdaemun, what felt like lifetimes ago now. But then Renjun opened his eyes, noticing Jaemin watching them off to the side, and his heart dropped.

"I—" he stuttered, looking between Jaemin and Jeno. Neither of them looked particularly upset at that had happened; Jeno looked amused, of all things, shooting smug glances at Jaemin, and it didn't make sense to Renjun until Jaemin leaned in to kiss him too.

" _We'll_ be seeing you again," Jaemin corrected, grinning at Renjun's shocked expression. "Of course, if our Injunnie wants to, that is."

"O-of course I want to," Renjun said immediately, the words nearly tumbling out of his mouth. "Of course I do, what the hell—"

"Then it's settled!" Jaemin replied, clapping his hands together pleasedly. He was grinning at Renjun like the other had never seen him before, no longer a shark, but someone he could trust. "You'll let us know when your flight is, and we'll pick you up at the airport."

"I'll drive, don't worry," Jeno remarked, as if that was much of a comfort to Renjun, and the entire situation was so absurd that all Renjun could do was laugh.

"Okay, okay," Jaemin said, breaking up Jeno and Renjun's still clasped hands with shooing motions from his own. "You have a flight to catch and glory in your home country to get back to. Don't waste it on two lame cops from Seoul, alright?"

Renjun shook his head, still in disbelief at the whole situation, but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "Nothing with you two is ever a waste," he said, but hugged them nonetheless, bidding his two friends (boyfriends?) farewell before walking through airport security.

And despite everything Renjun had lost, with the sound of Jaemin and Jeno bickering behind him, the gold medal in his luggage next to him, and an entirely new future ahead of him, Renjun couldn't help but feel like he had won.

**Author's Note:**

> did you guess who it was? heheheheh let me know in the comments if your guess was right! 
> 
> ahhh seriously though this was such an absolute blast to write... i loved every single second of writing this (even in a fever state at 4am when i had work the next morning) and i so hope that you enjoyed reading it! just another lovely shout out to the prompter... idk who u are but pls keep prompting such creative prompts for every fic fests, you are the backbone for us writers and we love people like u
> 
> big shout out as usual to d, my whole ass child, thank u for always gassing me over this fic and going feral with me while talking about our writing. i hope this lives up to ur expectations! let's become great writers together heheh. also, another thank you to j, for letting me stand in the kitchen and talk out all of the thoughts i had for this fic at u while u were just trying to watch winnie the pooh. you're the realest bitch in this place and i love u to bits.
> 
> and finally, the BIGGEST thank you to admin tea!! you have put soooo much hard work into this fest and it's really put you through the wringer at some points... i hope all of the amazing contributions to nct ficdom that you have orchestrated the creation of make things worth it! you are a god and i have such immense respect for you! sending you every ounce of my appreciation and love.
> 
> thank you so much for reading!


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